Maura's Bad Habit
by notsure2010
Summary: How Maura Isles comes to have a best friend, and then falls in love with her.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Rizzoli & Isles_

Chapter 1

For once, Dr. Maura Isles left her office—otherwise known as the morgue—at a reasonable hour, and she was snuggled up on the couch in her pajamas with a takeout container on her lap before seven.

But she wasn't eating the increasingly lukewarm curry dish; the tears had started falling before she had pulled the plastic box out of the microwave and the lump in her throat kept her from swallowing properly. She felt as though everything she had done for the last week had been leading up to this moment, the moment when she would finally let herself realize how painful the final step in her plan would actually be. The moment when she looked inside herself and knew, with every raw emotional nerve in the non-reasonable part of her psyche, that she was alone and would always be alone.

For as long as she could remember, Maura had never made friends easily. Brains and beauty could be a powerful combination—lots of her classmates in school had been attracted to her spirit, energy, and intelligence, but most were easily put off by the fierce self-confidence in her own abilities that could so easily be mistaken for arrogance.

Then, when she did make a good friend, she had this bad habit of falling in love with them. The first was a boy she met on the debate team in high school. He was not terribly good looking and his taste in clothes was horrendous, but Maura enjoyed spending time with him and in many ways found him her intellectual equal. Most of all she liked the idea of having a friend—someone that she could sit with at lunch and share inside jokes with. As the end of the school year approached Maura found herself fantasizing that they would go to the junior prom together, and suddenly this awkward and shy boy seemed much more attractive than he had been six months previously. She started doing everything she could to get his attention physically—playfully ruffling his hair, touching his arm. But as the prom got closer and he still hadn't asked her, she grew worried. Instead of making his affection for her known, he seemed increasingly distant and too often her attempts to joke with him fell flat. She couldn't hide her disappointment when she spent prom night alone in her bedroom and their friendship ended rapidly thereafter. It wasn't until her second year of college that she found out that he had rejected her only because he was gay but the experience had left its mark on her fragile ego.

In college she found many more opportunities for sexual intimacy than she had in high school, and she took advantage of those opportunities as any beautiful woman would. But she had little luck with friendship. The boys she dated were rarely her friends, nor did they become anything more than occasional lovers. She craved the closeness of a real friendship but she didn't finally click with anyone until the middle of her senior year. The friendship with Kate had snuck up on her—it seemed like one day they were studying organic chemistry together and the next they were buying season tickets to the symphony and spending half the night talking in the dorms. The physical attraction to Kate came just as quickly and once again Maura tried to find excuses to touch her friend in increasingly intimate ways. By now Maura had read a great deal about human sexuality and it somehow didn't surprise her that she was attracted to women. What did surprise her was the intensity of the attraction. It was like nothing she had ever felt for a man before.

The depth of her feelings only made the inevitable rejection that much harder. When Maura finally got up the nerve to tell her friend how she was feeling, Kate's response was so hurtful that Maura didn't leave her dorm room for nearly a week. By the end of that week, she had vowed to herself to never open herself up to such pain again. She realized that to Kate, the two women had just been good friends. Kate had probably had a dozen other such friendships in her lifetime. But to Maura, friendship meant love, attraction, and physical intimacy. It seemed as though she couldn't just be friends with someone—once she made a mental connection, she wanted a physical connection too.

With old wounds now opened and made deeper, Maura entered medical school. She threw herself into her work and excelled in her field, but rebuffed any of her classmates who tried to get to know her better. By the time she finished her second year of the program she was already known as Queen of the Dead—and not just because she planned on specializing in forensic medicine. As she finished school and then launched into her career as a medical examiner, Maura refused to let anyone in.

Until she met Jane. When Maura took the job with Boston Homicide she worried that she might not get along with Jane Rizzoli, the detective she was assigned to work with, simply because of the difference in their backgrounds. Even before she had met Jane, Maura knew that a female cop in an entirely male department would have to be a strong-willed and formidable woman. She worried that her new colleague would resent her or feel as though they had to compete for the attention of the male members of the department. So those first few weeks as they began to build a working relationship Maura remained icily professional, a demeanor that she had perfected in medical school.

But there was a reason that Jane Rizzoli was an excellent police officer: she knew how to read people. She could subconsciously detect discrepancies between the words a person said and the look in their eyes, or the messages given off by body language. She looked at Maura Isles and saw right through her—the phenomenal intelligence and sensitivity at her core, the electric current of insecurities that flickered through her on a regular basis, and the dull ache of loneliness that pulsed through the designer dresses and heels. Jane had no intention of trying to analyze or unpack Maura's emotional baggage, but simply accepted her as she was. Jane Rizzoli was nothing if not loyal, and once she saw how committed Maura was to her job, and how much of an asset the new doctor was to the team, she pulled her into her circle of friends with no regrets.

Maura's attitude toward Jane took a bit longer to thaw, however. She refused to call the detective anything other than Rizzoli, even though Jane used her first name often enough. When Christmas came around Maura refused to take part in the festivities, pushing away all glasses of the free-flowing eggnog being passed around at the department party. She contributed the most generic gift she could think of to the gift exchange—Starbucks gift cards—and was utterly flabbergasted when Jane, who had drawn her name, gave her a book of poetry by Gerard Manley Hopkins. Inside the card Jane had written,

"I know your favorite thing in the world is science, but I figure anyone who has as many Jimmy Choos as you do must really appreciate the finer things in life. I read these poems in high school and I've always liked them. I hope you do too." The card was signed, simply: "Merry Christmas, Jane."

Maura saved that card in a little drawer in her desk at home, but the walls around her heart didn't really begin to come down until she had been working in Boston for nearly a year. The dispatcher had called her to a scene early one morning and the tone in her voice told Maura that this particular case was going to be anything but routine. Sure enough, when she arrived she found three bodies shot execution style in an upscale home and the FBI were already there. Maura immediately began her examination, doing her best to ignore the arguments between Jane's partner, Korsak, and the FBI agents over jurisdiction and precedent. She had barely had time to check the core temperature of the first of the three corpses when one of the agents walked over to her.

"Hey doc, what can you give us?"

Maura cringed inwardly. The FBI always expected immediate answers, and it would literally be hours before she had any significant information for them. She hoped her voice didn't betray her annoyance.

"Well, agent, I believe we have three dead bodies, all of which appear to be male . . ."

"Appear to be male?"

"Yes, their clothing, physical stature, and noticeable facial hair seem to indicate as much, but I am not yet entirely positive."

The agent turned to one of his colleagues and sputtered, "Is this chick for real?" just as Jane arrived on the scene. Maura caught the detective's eye and immediately blushed in embarrassment because it was clear that she had added fuel to the fire—a fire Jane would now have to put out. She put her head down and continued working.

The FBI agent turned to her again. "Doc, you've got to tell us more than that. I know we didn't go to med school, but we can see that the victims are male."

Still keeping her eyes on the corpses, she responded as politely as she could, "They appear to have been shot at close range, but that's all I can tell you at this point, agent. I won't know anything else until I complete the autopsy."

"Complete the autopsy? The way you people in homicide work that could be days, a week! Can you tell me how I'm supposed to solve this case if you can't tell me more than what I can already see with my own fucking eyes?"

Maura felt her heart pounding as she tried to figure out the best way to respond. She knew that the agent wanted her to guess at the type of gun used at the very least, but she couldn't do that. Her guess might be wrong, and that might create even more problems for the agents. She looked at Jane, fearing the worst. Knowing that Jane had on many occasions been frustrated with the slow pace at which she worked, she worried that the detective might try to force a shaky guess from her. But she didn't have time to think of a reply before Jane spoke up.

"Hey! You cannot speak to Dr. Isles that way! She is the best M.E. this department has ever had and if she tells you that it's going to take an entire month to give you a report then that's how long you'll wait!"

Then she took the two agents by the arms and led them into another room, leaving Maura to work in peace. The argument continued, but Maura blocked out the voices and kept working, until she heard the door open and looked up to see Jane poke her head in.

"Hey Maura, you okay?"

Maura knew the relief must be showing on her face so she didn't even try to give the impression that she hadn't cared about how the agent had acted.

"Yes, I'm okay. Thanks for the backup."

"No problem—us 'chicks' have to stick together. Just don't say anything about a reddish-brown stain this time, okay?"

Then she smiled at Maura, a big, goofy, tired grin, and winked. Maura smiled back, involuntarily, and even giggled a little. A feeling of warmth and comfort came over her, and she knew immediately what it was: the sense of peace and belonging that comes with friendship. She worried about what that meant, but she knew that she wanted to feel it again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The six months following the FBI incident were without a doubt the best six months of Maura's life. Even as she sat sobbing on her couch, she would never regret the time she had spent as Jane Rizzoli's best friend. Especially once she figured out that she _was_ Jane's best friend.

That discovery was made entirely by accident. One day Frankie, Jane's brother, was waiting for her at her desk when she and Maura returned from a quick lunch at the deli around the corner from the police station. The rest of the office was empty and Frankie and Jane quickly launched into a conversation about their mother's latest antics. Maura, who had always felt a bit awkward around Frankie, excused herself and headed down to her office saying that she had to check on some samples she had sent to the lab earlier in the morning. But once she got to the morgue she remembered a file she needed from Jane's desk and headed back upstairs. Just outside the office door she suddenly heard Frankie say her name, and stopped short in the hallway, instinctively wanting to know what Jane's brother could possibly have to say about her.

"So you had lunch with Maura?"

"Yeah, so?"

"You eat lunch with her every day or something? You going to start wearing fancy dresses and high heels?"

Jane snorted out a laugh. "No, but Ma would sure be happy if I did, huh."

Frankie smiled and nodded, but continued with his questions. "Seriously though, what is it that you guys have in common? She talks like she's memorized Wikipedia. It's annoying. She looks like she's never had any fun in her life, and the guys in narcotics all call her the Queen of the Dead."

Maura felt herself blushing but made no move to walk away from the conversation. Her heart was pounding, and she feared that Jane would agree with Frankie and then admit that she had only befriended Maura because she felt sorry for her, or because they were the only two women in the department.

Jane surprised her though. "Thanks a lot, Frankie, what are you insulting my best friend for? She hates it when people call her Queen of the Dead by the way, so don't ever call her that to her face."

"But it's okay if I call her that behind her back?"

"No, of course not!" Jane's voice rose to a squeak. "I meant, just don't call her that at all! I don't want you to hurt her feelings."

Frankie turned his head away from the doorway and said something, but Maura didn't catch it. She heard Jane's voice clearly though, its tenor returned to its usual even but throaty pitch. "I just have fun with her, Frankie. I like learning all of the Wikipedia stuff, and she's so earnest about it. It's cute. She's not like a regular girl, so bitchy and competitive."

Frankie jumped in, his voice full of sarcasm. "She's not like a regular girl? Have you seen what she wears? She could spend my entire paycheck on shoes, probably."

"I know, I know. But the reason that she cares so much about fashion—" Jane broke off, apparently not sure what the reason was. "Well, I know she doesn't care about fashion because she's trying to get ahead, or get a guy, or impress anyone. It's just who she is. And if she can accept me for who I am, and listen to me drone on about baseball scores, then I'd be crazy not to be her friend."

Jane paused, but Frankie didn't seem to have anything to say, so she continued, her tone a bit more serious. "You know I'm not exactly easy to get along with. Most girls—women, whatever—don't exactly know what to do with someone like me. And I certainly haven't made it easy for anyone. I'm sure you remember my views on cheerleaders?"

Frankie laughed. "I remember when I took Becky Peters to homecoming and you did your best to humiliate her with blond jokes."

"And she was a cheerleader, see? God, I was awful in school, wasn't I? " Jane hung her head for a minute, but when Frankie didn't respond she continued. "Did you know that Maura is literally incapable of lying? I've tried to make her lie, just by teasing her a little, and she gets so flustered she practically hyperventilates. It's hilarious. You know how much I hate people who are fake. How could I not be friends with someone who is always perfectly honest?"

"Okay, Jane, you win. Maura's your best friend, and you can do each other's hair and go shopping for shoes all day if you want. I'm getting a little teary now, I think I'll go call Paulie from down the block and tell him how much our friendship meant in high school—"

Maura heard Jane smack her brother on the arm and they both laughed. "Whatever, Frankie, just get out of here so I can get some work done, okay?"

After Frankie left, Maura remained rooted to the spot in the hallway. She heard Jane pour herself a cup of coffee and sit down at her computer, and then voices to filter in from the front of the station so Maura quickly turned and walked on tip-toe back to the lab. She sat at her desk and didn't know if she was going to burst into a fit of giggles or tears of joy. She settled for both at the same time. By the time the giggles had subsided, Maura had made a decision: she was going to be the best, best friend a girl had ever had. And since Jane had a birthday coming up, that meant she had some online shopping to do.

"Maura, you know I don't like surprises."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jane, everyone likes surprises when they're good surprises. Everyone just says they don't like them because they don't want to wait."

Jane looked so exasperated that Maura feared smoke might come out of her ears. "C'mon, do you want me to beg? Is that what you want?" Jane slid off the couch to her knees and grabbed Maura's hand. "Pretty please Maura? Tell me what my birthday present is? It's almost midnight and I've been such a good birthday girl—" She batted her eyelashes in the most ridiculous way that Maura snorted with laughter.

"Okay, okay, here you go. The only problem is, you're so drunk I won't be able to tell if you actually like the present or if the alcohol is clouding your judgment." She handed over a white envelope, which Jane snatched up.

"I am not that drunk, and I'm sure I'll like your present. Unless it's clothes. You didn't get me clothes did you?" Jane suddenly looked horror stricken and began trying to take her foot out of her mouth.

"It's clothes, isn't it. I'm so sorry, Maura, I'm sure I'll love it. I'll love anything you pick out for me. Please don't give me that look— "

The look on Maura's face was not embarrassment or reproach, but utter delight in her friend's antics. She grabbed Jane by the shoulders and forced her to make eye contact.

"Jane, I would never buy you clothes unless you asked me to. I don't like people to buy clothes for me so I won't buy them for you. Besides, do you see any packages that might have clothes in them? Your present is in this envelope." She took the envelope back, enjoying the bit of power she had over her friend. "Now, admit that you are drunk, and I'll open the envelope for you."

Jane smirked. "Okay, I guess I am kind of drunk. How did I get so drunk, anyway?"

"It's your birthday, you're allowed." Maura moved as though she were going to get up and clear away the empty beer bottles, but Jane grasped her wrist and pulled her back down, once again snatching the envelope out of Maura's hand and ripping it open before Maura could take it back.

"Season tickets to the Red Sox! Maura! That's too much, I can't take these."

"Don't be silly, Jane. You have to take me to the games, so it's a present for me too. And then maybe if I learn enough about the game, you'll let me play on the department's team sometime." Jane looked like she might try to protest further, but Maura quickly interjected, "Read the card."

Jane read it aloud in a husky voice. "Happy Birthday Jane. Thank you for spending it with me. Thank you for being the best friend I've ever had." Jane briefly looked Maura in the eye before continuing. "Thank you for making me love my job like I never have before. Thanks for having my back. Love, Maura."

When Jane looked up again, there were tears in her eyes. She pulled Maura into a tight hug and to her friend's utter astonishment, sobbed into her shoulder. Maura wrapped her arms around Jane, caressing her back and making soft shushing noises. Then, just as abruptly, Jane pulled herself together and broke away from Maura. She avoided Maura's eyes but said in a quiet, low voice, "No, Maura, thank _you_ for being my best friend."

Maura had no time to respond before Jane suddenly stiffened and blurted out, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I have to throw up now." She ran to the sink, overcome by the effects of the night's alcohol. Maura was immediately behind her, holding back her hair and rubbing her back.

When the spasms subsided, Jane wiped her mouth on the towel Maura handed her and said, "It seems like I always end up drunk and puking on my birthday." She looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing. "But at least this year I have someone to hold back my hair." She smiled and then apologized, looking close to tears again.

"I know you'll do the same for me on my birthday," Maura said while patting Jane's arm, hoping to lighten the mood. "Which is in just a few months, by the way. Now, come on, let's get you to bed."

Jane acquiesced with little protest and was asleep within minutes. Maura sat on the bed next to her, elated at Jane's reaction to her gift. But the spark that she had felt when Jane hugged her, the somersault her stomach did when Jane had shed tears while reading her words—these were signs of a growing attraction that she couldn't ignore.

It was happening again. And she was going to let it.

Maura went back into Jane's kitchen and tidied up a bit before returning to the bedroom with a bucket—just in case. After rummaging through the closet for some clothes that would pass for pajamas and finding a tank top and some sweat pants, she pulled them on and went back to the bed to look at her sleeping friend. She stroked Jane's forehead and cheek, pulling back a few loose strands of hair, smiling as she noted the beauty she found in her friend's face. She put her thumb in the cleft in her chin, suddenly realizing that she had been longing to touch her there for ages. Her dimples were of course not visible while she slept, but Maura caressed that spot on her face where she knew it was hidden, and then kissed it lightly. Jane made no movement, so Maura walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled in, lightly placing her right hand around Jane's waist. And fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

[Thanks to everyone for the reviews and alerts! This is my first fanfic ever, so I appreciate your comments tremendously.]

_Disclaimer: I don't own Rizzoli & Isles._

Chapter 3

After Jane's birthday, everything changed for Maura. For the third time in her life she had allowed herself to fall in love with her best friend, and she was terrified that Jane would break her heart.

But Maura wasn't a teenager anymore, or a vulnerable college student. Surely she had faced much greater challenges in her life than a silly little crush. She told herself that if she approached this problem logically there would have to be a solution that would allow her to maintain her friendship with Jane without exposing her deeper feelings. On a sheet of notepaper she wrote out a list of rules.

1. Avoid physical contact as much as possible.

2. Keep daydreams to a minimum.

3. Never, under any circumstances, tell her how you feel.

4. Date men, and encourage her to do the same.

Maura made a few mental notes about how to make sure that she followed her rules before putting the list in her desk drawer. Then she steeled herself for the task ahead of her, sure that if she stuck to the list she would be able to cure herself of this crush.

She failed miserably.

Once Maura had allowed herself to realize the depth of her feelings for Jane, suddenly everything the detective did was incredibly sexy. There was no question that Jane was beautiful—Maura had noticed that on the day they had first met. She clearly remembered thinking that the detective had stunning eyes, an infectious smile, and a slim, toned body that any woman would be jealous of, but that her drab clothes did little to accentuate her best features. And why in the world would anyone with such amazing hair let it get so wild, or keep it in a pony tail?

But now that Maura knew who Jane really was, the clothes she wore and the way she fixed (or failed to fix) her hair seemed to fit her perfectly. It was clear the detective had chosen her t-shirts, boots, slacks, and low-set belt as her work uniform because it made her feel confident and in control. When she strode into a room or a crime scene wearing a blazer and her gun on her hip all people saw was a self-assured, competent, and even distinctive detective, and that was the image she preferred. Maura loved the energy Jane radiated and the confidence she inspired, and she had also seen that energy dissipate on the occasions when the detective was required to wear more dressy attire and felt self-conscious about it. Maura found that she by far preferred a badly-dressed-but-confident Jane to a sulky-but-fashionable Jane.

Then there was goofy Jane. As much as Maura found herself attracted to self-confident Jane, that attraction seemed to double in the presence of goofy Jane. The faces that woman could pull! Maura loved to draw out their conversations during autopsies when Jane was trying to make her guess about cause of death. By now she knew instinctively that Jane would never get really angry with her, so she just teased a little to get a reaction and a goofy expression. Once in frustration Jane had muttered something like, "God, woman!" at Maura during an autopsy and while the accomplished and decidedly feminist doctor in her wanted to be offended, the love-sick woman in her wanted to laugh. Maura had broken rule number two at that moment, and imagined what it would feel like if one day she stepped out of the shower and heard Jane exclaim in that same deep, sexy voice, "God, woman!" at the sight of her naked body. It took a lot of deep breaths to get that image out of her mind.

Maura noticed that Jane was at her goofiest with men she was attracted to. Jane's boss, Lieutenant Grant, was a case in point. Maura had realized what was going on between the two of them during the first department softball game of the spring, not long after Jane's birthday. Joe Grant had grown up with Jane so the two had an unusual relationship, but Grant was definitely flirting with Jane now, and Jane wasn't having any of it. As Grant pitched softballs to the detective he taunted her with the nickname "Janey," and was rewarded with a gruff "Don't call me Janey!" but her tone was playful rather than angry. Maura felt a stab of jealousy but still found the way that her friend was reacting to Grant's attentions incredibly cute.

Later that day Jane explained a bit more about her feelings for Grant. Maura brought the subject up in a half-hearted attempt to enforce rule number four.

"You want to know what I'm thinking?" Maura took off her autopsy goggles and looked at Jane, who even managed to make a baseball jersey layered with scrubs look cute.

"It's so weird, I do." If Maura caught the sarcasm in Jane's voice, she ignored it.

"I'm thinking I know why you're making such a big deal out of the fact that Grant's your new boss."

Jane quickly backtracked. "I don't want to know what you're thinking."

"You two like each other."

"No! Do you know what that ass used to call me? Frog face."

Maura giggled, not only because it was funny to see Jane so worked up over a name that an eight year old used to call her, but because her eyes were so wide that she did, in fact, look a little like a frog face. Not that Maura would ever admit it.

"It's not funny, Maura, no!" Maura agreed, but kept laughing anyway.

"I'm not a frog face!"

Seconds later, Jane remembered that she was late for gnocchi night at her parents' house and took a running leap toward the door, sliding on the tiled floor while trying to divest herself of her scrubs at the same time, leaving Maura to wonder how in the world she could find such goofiness sexy.

On impulse, she suddenly called out after her friend, "Bye, Janey!" Her heart pounded as Jane stopped in her tracks to look back at Maura, who smiled tentatively and gave what she hoped was a casual wave with a gloved hand. Jane gave her a quizzical look but to Maura's profound relief did not shout out, "Don't call me Janey!" Instead, she simply instructed Maura to call her if she got any new information about the case and kept running down the hallway.

_That's right_, thought Maura, _I get to call you Janey_.

"Rules, Maura, rules," she muttered to herself and went back to work.

Maura almost threw out her list of rules entirely once she became acquainted with sexy Jane.

Angela Rizzoli had managed to wrangle her daughter into a shopping trip and somehow succeeded in getting her to buy a little black dress for a dinner party she was throwing. The evening of the party Maura worked late in her office and was surprised to find Jane coming through the door only an hour after she had left.

She was wearing the dress.

Maura had seen the dress when Angela brought it to the station for her daughter, but she had had no idea how amazing Jane would look in it. It hugged her form perfectly, showing off Jane's curves and the straight line of her spine through the open back. But it was the plunging neckline that made Maura tingle, as it drew her eyes down Jane's long neck right to that mysterious spot between her breasts, a spot that was just begging to be touched, even kissed.

But it wasn't just the perfection of Jane's body that Maura was suddenly confronted with. This wasn't like the other times she had seen Jane dressed up by her mother, when her friend radiated only a sullen attitude and discomfort. Jane _owned_ this dress, just like she owned the badge on her belt. Maura could tell that she knew she looked good, even if her face, and the fact that she was waving a bottle of wine in her hand, told Maura that something about the evening had not gone right.

Sexy Jane was confident Jane—in a dress.

Maura felt herself blushing and quickly looked away, pretending to be occupied with something at the sink.

"Jane, what are you doing here? Why aren't you at the party?"

"My mother. My mother! Do you know what she did? I got to the house and she sent me into the dining room to 'entertain.' And do you know what I found there? Joe freaking Grant. My mother told me this was a dinner party but it was a set up with Grant!"

Maura felt that familiar pang of jealousy but forced herself to remain calm.

"Your mother just wants you to be happy; can you blame her for trying to set you up? He's cute—"

"Oh no, don't you go there! That's exactly what she said! She said she wants to know that I'm taken care of."

"Well, what's wrong with that?"

"I don't need a guy to be taken care of! That's what I told her, and that's what I told him." She stuck out her bottom lip just a bit, like a pouting six-year-old.

"You said that to him? What did he say?"

"He said that the set up was a bad idea. I agreed and stormed out. After stealing this bottle of wine." Jane looked a little deflated, like the fight had gone out of her. Maura giggled.

"Why are you laughing? No, I mean, seriously, do I look stupid?"

"No, are you kidding? Really, you don't know?" Maura knew perfectly well that Jane did know how good she looked—it simply oozed out of her—but she played along.

"You're gorgeous, my friend." Maura's heart pounded as she said the words. How many times had she thought those exact words, and then remembered that Jane was her friend, and that telling her she was gorgeous was probably not the best idea? She felt panic rising in her throat but Jane seemed to accept it all in stride.

"Then why are you laughing? Really? Then tell my mother that, she thinks I'm some sort of pity project."

Then Jane's voice took on a more serious tone. "It was such a disaster, Maura. He said all the right things—he complimented me so much I told him I was going to have to write him up on harassment charges. And he is cute, you're right about that." She smirked at Maura sheepishly before continuing, her voice dropping to a pitch that made Maura's heart pound.

"But you know what? I think I've just been enjoyed the attention from him. I don't think I really like him, at least, not in _that_ way. He's still Joey from high school, and I really do dislike this political animal he's become. Ma's heart is in the right place, but it would never work."

Jane looked up to find Maura staring at her.

"Maura, why are you staring at my boobs?" A smile crept in at the corner of her mouth.

_Oh no_, thought Maura. _Was it that obvious?_

Maura stammered, trying to figure a way out. "It's just that—"

"It's just that, what? What's wrong with my breasts?"

In her state of confusion, Maura couldn't tell if Jane was playing with her or if she was actually angry. "Nothing, nothing, I've just never seen you in such a low-cut dress before, and you have a . . . a . . . . "

"I have a what, Maura?"

"A melanocytic nevus, between your, um, breasts." She pointed, and peered closer to Jane's chest.

Jane looked down at her cleavage. "Oh, you mean this mole? It's nothing."

"Have you have it looked at by a doctor?" Maura found herself moving closer to Jane. She wasn't sure if she was doing this because she really did want to look at the mole, or because she would do just about anything to touch Jane, right there. She held up her hand as if to do just that, but Jane swatted it away playfully.

"Yes, I've had it looked at, jeez. It's been there forever. Now will you please stop staring, Dr. Isles? You'll give me a complex."

"Sorry, just trying to be helpful!" Maura knew her voice was squeaky, so once again she turned around, heading back to the sink. She thought she could feel Jane's eyes boring into the back of her head, but when she looked over her shoulder she found Jane polishing off her glass of wine and seemingly paying no attention to Maura at all.

She put the glass down and headed towards the door, calling out over her shoulder, "I'm off to solve a murder! G'night Maura!"

"Good night, Janey!"

Maura slumped over the sink once Jane was gone, relieved that the conversation was over and that Jane hadn't seemed to notice that her friend had been ogling her in an entirely un-friendlike way.

_Sexy Jane, you're going to be the death of me_.


	4. Chapter 4

[Thanks again for all of the reviews everyone!]

_Disclaimer: I don't own Rizzoli & Isles_.

Chapter 4

After Lieutenant Grant took a job in DC, things got a lot better for Maura. It didn't seem like Jane was interested in dating anyone—in fact, the two women were spending more time together than ever before. Maura convinced Jane to take up yoga, and they even trained for a marathon. Maura followed her rules as best she could, although sticking to them while working undercover as a waitress at a lesbian bar had been a particularly difficult challenge. The bar's uniform looked fantastic on her and as soon as she saw that Jane had noticed that fact, she broke down and played the part of hot lesbian waitress for all it was worth, grinning from ear to ear each time she caught Jane's eye lingering just a little too long on her chest.

At the end of the night Maura poured herself a drink and sat down across from Jane, who looked a little tired. Maura sipped her vodka while Jane rubbed her eyes and then blinked, seemingly unable to focus on anything but Maura's chest.

"Janey, why are you staring at my breasts?" Maura couldn't believe she'd said it, but oh, it felt good to flirt with Jane.

"Maura! I am not staring at your—" Jane realized that Maura had most definitely caught her in mid-ogle so she cut herself off and then backtracked.

"I'm staring at your, you know, molecular newberg . . ."

Both women burst out laughing at Jane's butchery of yet another medical term, and Maura was about to protest that she didn't have a mole on her breasts, unlike some other people she knew, when the bar's owner came over to their table and interrupted. The moment was broken, but for days afterward Maura wondered if she should seriously consider breaking rule number three and tell Jane how she felt.

The only thing stopping her was the ever-present memory of what had happened when she had broken that rule with her best friend Kate all those years ago. They had been sitting on the couch in Kate's dorm watching a movie when Kate announced that she was cold and went to get a blanket that they could both snuggle under. Maura had jumped at the chance for physical intimacy with the woman that she was falling in love with and when Kate seemed so content in her arms she had taken what she felt was the next logical step—she leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth.

When Maura opened her eyes after that kiss, instead of seeing her friend looking back at her with affection or arousal, she saw only disgust. Kate backed away and threw off the blanket, clearly wanting to put as much distance between her and Maura as she could. Then she said the words that Maura would never forget.

"Shit, Maura! What the fuck are you doing?" And she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

The only thing about that moment that Maura was proud of was that she didn't start crying right then and there. She simply stood up, picked up her shoes and her purse, and walked out of the room. The two women never spoke again.

Maura had heard Jane use those words many, many times, although thankfully they had never been directed at her. What cop didn't relieve a little tension with profanity once in awhile? But the thought of hearing Jane say them as a visceral reaction to being kissed by Maura—that shot such fear into her heart that she could hardly see straight. So she convinced herself to keep rule number three, no matter what signals Jane seemed to be throwing her way and things were okay.

But then they got a lot worse.

* * *

The first time the serial killer Charles Hoyt had attacked Jane, Maura had been horrified by what had happened to her colleague but since they barely knew each other she had only expressed her sincere sympathy for Jane's injuries and then left it at that.

The second time Hoyt began to terrorize Jane, Maura's heart melted as she watched her best friend try to deal with a level of fear and anger that she had never before known. This time, Maura offered what comfort and stability she could by inviting Jane into her home and by doing whatever was necessary to help catch the psychopath and his apprentice. She had even agreed to let Jane use a dead woman's corpse as bait to draw Hoyt out—a decision that still haunted her with frighteningly vivid dreams in which she could see her own naked body, left exposed to the elements in a remote forest, while Jane simply walked away. But in the end it had been worth it, because Jane had once again put Hoyt behind bars.

The third time Jane dealt with Hoyt, in the form of yet another apprentice, Maura saw something she never thought she would see. Jane sat on the couch in her living room with Maura beside her and gave into her fears. Jane had clearly lost all hope, terrified that Hoyt would continue to torture her until the day that he finally caught her and killed her. She was so tired and broken that she didn't even protest when Maura jumped into action and called in Jane's new partner, Frost, as well as Korsak and a team of patrol officers, to protect her. Maura knew that Jane guarded her independence fiercely, and to see her so frightened broke her heart. Jane even let Maura take her own loaded gun and aim it at the apartment door until the rest of the team arrived, just so she could feel secure enough to sleep.

With Jane in such a fragile state, Maura felt her own fears and emotions quickly growing out of control. Providing for Jane's needs kept her busy though, and on the outside she remained as calm and composed as she could for Jane's sake. But when Gabriel Dean walked into the police department in the middle of the investigation and quickly beat a path to Jane's desk, Maura felt something snap inside of her.

FBI Agent Dean had worked with Boston Homicide just a few weeks earlier in search of information about Hoyt's apprentice. Initially Jane had reacted poorly to his intrusion into her case but Maura realized quickly that her friend's brusque behavior was simply her usual way of trying to cover up her attraction to the agent. When she was rational, Maura had to agree that Dean was perfect for Jane—he was good looking, smart, and he had respect for Jane and her job. But after spending the night in a wrinkled dress aiming a gun at Jane's front door until her arms shook with fatigue, Maura was definitely not feeling very rational.

So when Maura saw Dean arrive at Jane's desk and heard him announce that he was there just to make sure that Jane was okay, and when she saw Jane's tired and tense face relax in his presence, she felt as though she might break into pieces. She put on a happy face, not wanting Jane or Dean to catch even a glimpse of the anguish she felt inside, but when she got home that night she knew it was time to formulate a new plan.

This had to end. She had known it all along—Jane wouldn't stay single and available to play the role of Maura Isles' best friend forever. Once this case was over, she swore to herself, she was going to have to move on. If it came down to a choice between watching Jane slowly slip away from her into a relationship with Agent Dean, or leaving Boston all together and making a clean break of things, she would have to choose the latter.

The case ended badly—although no one was physically injured, both Frankie and Jane were kidnapped by Hoyt's female apprentice and Frankie ended up having to shoot her in Jane's apartment. Jane felt horribly guilty for involving her brother in Hoyt's nasty work and Frankie was understandably upset by the events even though he had managed to save himself and his sister.

When Korsak found Maura to tell her that Jane was safe and the apprentice dead, she collapsed into the detective's arms, sobbing with relief. Korsak patted her gently and told her she should go home and get some sleep—she was clearly exhausted by the events of the week. But Maura told him she would wait until Jane returned to the office. She had to see Jane and make sure she was okay.

But Jane never came back to the office. Frost came in after an hour or so and said that the detective had left the scene with Dean. His words felt like a slap in the face to Maura, as she was once again hit with the cold, hard, reality of the situation.

Maura went home, planning to sleep for as many hours as she possibly could just to escape the feelings of loss and emptiness inside her heart, but she awoke as soon as the sunlight began streaming in her bedroom window. With a flutter in her heart she checked her phone to see if Jane had left her a message, but there was nothing. Jane didn't come in to work, and there were no calls, no texts, no emails. Maura was sure that Jane was spending the day with Dean, and the thought of the two of them together made her feel sick. So she left the morgue early and went home, allowing herself a night of self pity before beginning to look for another job, in another city.

Sitting alone on her couch that night with her uneaten dinner congealing on the coffee table, Maura had many emotions flooding through her. She hated herself for being so weak, she was jealous of Dean, and the acute loneliness felt like acid burning a hole in the lining of her stomach.

But most of all, she was angry. Angry at Jane for not seeing what was right in front of her.

Finally, after two hours of letting herself feel angry and hurt, she pulled herself together, had a long, hot shower to wash away the tears, and returned to her couch with her laptop and a martini to draft her letter of resignation. Breathing deeply to steel herself for the task, she typed quickly and efficiently, feeling better as the familiar distraction of work began to settle her mind.

Then the phone rang. It was Jane.

For a brief second, she considered not answering it. But only the briefest of seconds.

"Hello?"

"Maura." Jane was whispering, but she sounded relieved.

Maura's anger at her friend suddenly sprang to life again, and she spoke the next words rather sharply. "Where are you? Why haven't you called me? I've been so worried about you."

Jane heard the catch in Maura's voice and cringed inwardly. "I know, Maura, I'm sorry. Ma and pop have practically tied me up in my pink canopy bed and they took away my phone so I would sleep. Finally I guess ma decided that me and Frankie are okay because she fell asleep and I got daddy to give me my phone back. I feel like a teenager again, sneaking around trying to call my boyfriend in the middle of the night." Jane giggled, and Maura felt infinitely better.

"But what about Dean?"

"What about him?"

"Frost said that you left with him after Frankie . . ." She trailed off, not wanting to say anything that would make Jane remember why her parents had forced her back to the infamous pink canopy bed.

"Yeah, we went to dinner but I got rid of him pretty quickly. It would never work with him, Maura. All we had to talk about was Hoyt, and who wants to talk about him? I'm afraid whenever I see him I'll always remember Hoyt, and that's no way to start a relationship."

Maura paused for a second, afraid of the answer to the question she felt compelled to ask next. "What about me then, Jane? I've been with you through this whole mess too. When you look at me do you think about Hoyt?"

"Of course not, Maura! When I look at you I think of everything _but_ Hoyt. C'mon, Maura, you're my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without you." Now it was Maura's turn to hear the catch in Jane's voice.

This admission of affection seemed so unlike Jane—well, Jane when she was fully sober—that Maura didn't respond and Jane quickly took up the thread of the conversation to cover the awkward silence.

"I've got to ask you for another favor though, Maura. I've got to get out of my parents' house and I . . . I really don't want to go back to my apartment yet. Can I—"

Maura interrupted before Jane could finish. "Stay over here? Of course, Janey, of course. You don't even have to ask."

As soon as she got off the phone Maura quickly set about cleaning up and getting ready for Jane's arrival, throwing away tissues and putting the cold curry down the garbage disposal. When she had finished tidying up she returned to her laptop and looked at the letter of resignation she had typed up. Without a second thought, she clicked the X in the upper right-hand corner of the document, and when the computer program asked if she wanted to save the document before closing it, she clicked no.

* * *

Jane and Maura both slept soundly that night, side by side in Maura's king-sized bed. Jane woke first the next morning and stared for several minutes at her sleeping friend, relishing the sense of peace and calm that she felt in Maura's presence. She wished that she could somehow let Maura know how much her friendship meant to her, and how sorry she was that she had made Maura worry.

An idea came to her, and she snuck out of the bedroom and slipped into Maura's office, heading for her desk. Jane found that she could often express her feelings better in writing than she could in person, so she looked for some notepaper or stationery in Maura's desk drawers. The bottom drawer was locked, but the key was in plain sight in a cubbyhole and Jane didn't hesitate to open it.

The first thing she saw in the drawer was a picture of herself. She pulled it out, and found another underneath it, and another underneath that. She had seen Maura take pictures of her at different times, but she hadn't known that her friend had printed the snapshots. There were a few of the two of them together, and Jane smiled as she remembered the occasions on which they had been taken. She kept digging through the drawer and found more mementos—dozens more, in fact. Programs from the Red Sox games, ticket stubs from movies they had seen together, a napkin from the lesbian bar they had worked in undercover. Even the card that Jane had given her with a Christmas gift well over a year ago. It was as though Maura had been documenting every event of their relationship together.

Relationship? Jane wondered why that word had suddenly come to mind. She kept digging through the drawer, with her heart pounding so loud she thought it might wake Maura up in the next room. She furtively looked up at the door, afraid of being caught going through Maura's things, but she didn't stop.

The next layer of mementos she didn't recognize. There were pictures of a younger Maura with another girl, a redhead with blue eyes. Some of them were labeled on the back, and it seemed the girl's name was Kate. There were more ticket stubs, a pair of tiny earrings taped to a card, and a symphony program covered with notes that Maura and, presumably, this Kate, had written to each other during the performance. Mementos of another relationship.

Then, as Jane bent down to see what other treasures might be hidden at the bottom of the drawer, her eye caught sight of a sheet of notepaper taped to the side of the drawer. She pried it loose and saw that it was labeled simply, "Rules."

As she read the list of rules Jane's head was swimming and her stomach was doing flip flops. She stared at the paper for nearly an entire minute before she quickly stuck it back onto the side of the drawer and replaced all of the other papers and objects as carefully as she could. Her plan to write a note having been completely forgotten, she tip-toed back to the bedroom and lay back down beside her still-sleeping friend, staring at the ceiling and listening to Maura's steady breathing.

Jane Rizzoli was going to have to think about this.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I don't own Rizzoli & Isles_.

[Just watched the season finale. I can't say I'm too happy about it. I think I prefer my Rizzles fanfiction world to nasty year-long cliffhangers. Luckily I had already written this because I'm too frustrated to write anything right now!]

Chapter 5

Maura slept for another hour, so Jane had plenty of time to think. If she understood the list of "rules" correctly, then Maura was physically attracted to her.

Jane's heart pounded as she began to sort through the raw physical feelings she was suddenly having for Maura. She turned on her side to look at her friend's face. She reached up with her right hand and almost caressed her cheek, but stopped. The moment was too perfect, and she didn't want to wake her.

But the thought of touching Maura in an intimate way sent a jolt of electricity from her heart to her stomach to her toes.

She looked amazing. She smelled amazing.

_I wonder what Maura would taste like. _

_I wonder what it would feel like to hold her in my arms and kiss her._

_I wonder what kind of sounds she would make if I filled my hands with her breasts and kissed her neck._

Jane indulged her fantasies for just a few minutes before remembering who she was fantasizing about.

_No! Maura is my friend! There's a reason she wrote those rules, she doesn't want this. She doesn't want to be attracted to me. There's something else going on here, or she would have told me! She would have let me know how she was feeling!_

Jane forced herself to get up off the bed and take a cold shower. When she came back into the bedroom Maura was awake, and Jane immediately asked if she wanted to go out for breakfast. She had to get out of the bedroom, as quickly as possible. And after breakfast, there would be family obligations, a softball game, and then work on Monday. Things would go back to normal.

But they didn't.

Detective Jane Rizzoli had an unusual case on her hands, and it occupied her thoughts nearly every minute of the day. And for once, she didn't feel as though she could solve it herself. She knew she was in way over her head with this case, the case of Dr. Maura Isles and her enigmatic love life.

Jane had to talk to someone about this.

For months now she had been talking through most of her cases and even her personal problems with Maura, but she obviously couldn't go to Maura with this one.

Frost and Korsak? She put out some feelers one morning when she and the boys were in the office alone.

"Hey, guys, has Maura ever talked to you about her love life? Old boyfriends or anything?" It sounded stupid as soon as she said it, but it was too late to take it back.

"What do you think, Rizzoli?" Korsak snorted. "Do you think she'd tell us about guys she was dating before she told you?"

"That's just it, Korsak, she doesn't talk to me about it. She's my best friend, and I don't even really know anything about the guys she likes, or used to like."

"There was that Fairfield guy she dated in college," said Frost, "and didn't she date that yoga instructor?"

"Yeah, I know about Fairfield and Brock, but, I'm thinking about . . . other people."

"Why, Rizzoli? And why don't you just ask her?"

Jane realized this tactic was going nowhere and gave up.

She was going to have to talk to a woman about this one. But the only other woman in her life, besides Maura, was a formidable one.

Her mother.

* * *

That afternoon, while Maura was busy with a staff meeting, Jane pulled up in front of her parents' house and contemplated what she was about to do. She was so nervous she felt like she might vomit at any moment, and but her need to figure out this situation with Maura was more powerful than any fears about her mother's reaction so she swallowed hard and opened the front door.

"Ma?" She called out once she was inside. "Ma, are you here?"

"Jane, what are you doing here?" Angela came out of the kitchen and immediately saw the worry etched in her daughter's face.

"What's wrong, baby? Are you sick?"

"No, ma, I just need to talk to you about something." Jane collapsed on the sofa and her mother took a seat next to her.

"This is serious, okay ma? Can you try to just listen and maybe rein in the crazy, just a little bit?"

"Jane, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

Jane took a deep breath. "It's about Maura."

"Maura! What did you do to her, Jane? Is she mad at you? You had better not have upset her, don't you know she's the best thing you have in your life right now! Ever since you were a little girl I've told you—"

"Ma! What did I just say? Please don't interrupt me!" Jane rubbed her temples in exasperation but then stopped and looked at her mother.

"Wait, what did you just say? Maura's the best thing I have in my life right now?"

"Yes, Jane, of course! You don't think we've all noticed how much happier you've been for the last year since you and Maura have been friends? Even with all of the tragic things you deal with at work, all these horrible serial killers and apprentices and who knows what else, you're _happy_." She emphasized the last word and took Jane's hands in hers. "I think your friendship with Maura is part of that. Why do you think I keep trying to set you up with people like Joey Grant? I thought you were finally in a more settled place, and you would find a way to open your heart a little. Let someone else in."

Jane was speechless, amazed at how perceptive her mother was in this case, despite having one little detail wrong. Well, one big detail.

"That's just it, ma." Jane looked down at her hands and her voice dropped in pitch. "What if I don't want to let anyone else in, except Maura. Only Maura." Jane found that it felt surprisingly good to say that out loud.

"Oh, Jane, you don't mean that, there's a guy out there for you—"

"Ma! Please, just let me say this." Angela threw up her hands and made a motion as though she were zipping her mouth shut. Jane gave a half-hearted smile and continued.

"I found some things in Maura's apartment that make me think that maybe she wants to be more than friends. With me." Jane avoided her mother's eyes and kept talking as fast as she could.

"I found all of these things that she has saved, stuff like ticket stubs and pictures from things we've done together. She's got them all in her desk drawer."

Angela's patience with Jane's explanation was wearing thin and she interrupted. "Oh, that doesn't mean anything. Lots of people save stuff like that. What are you doing going through her drawers anyway?"

"There's more, ma, please, just let me finish?" Jane sighed again and then continued.

"I know I shouldn't have been going through her drawers, I was just looking for some paper and I found all of these things by accident. I feel bad about it but I can't undo it now. Anyway, she also saved things from college, reminders of things she did with another girl. A girl named Kate. She has all of these things that Kate gave her, or that remind her of Kate—pictures, and earrings, and notes, and other stuff. This Kate girl was obviously someone very important to her, but she's never said a word to me about her. Isn't that weird?"

Angela looked a little confused. "I don't think it's weird. She just wants to remember fun things she did. What are you getting so worked up over this for?"

"There's one more thing, ma. There's a list of rules."

"A list of rules? What kind of rules?"

"You know how Maura is, so logical and methodical about everything? It's like she was . . . feeling . . . a certain way . . . about me, or this Kate girl, and she didn't want to feel that way, or want me to know that she felt that way, so she made a list of rules about how she should act around me and then taped it to the inside of her drawer."

Jane paused to breathe again, before continuing. "Rules like, no physical contact, no daydreams, and never tell her how you feel."

Jane finally looked her mother in the eye, hoping that Angela was catching on to what she was saying. For once, Angela seemed to have nothing to say, and the two women sat in silence for a few moments.

It was Angela who said what they were both thinking, in a near-whisper: "Are you saying that you think Maura is gay?"

"I don't know, ma," Jane groaned and stood up. Soon she was pacing around the room. "I don't know if the rules were meant for me, or if they were for Kate, but it kind of seems like . . . I mean, don't you think—" Jane slumped down in an armchair.

"Jane, calm down honey. We'll figure this out. I don't suppose you want to try to just talk to Maura about this?"

"No. No. I can't. I'd have to admit that I was snooping through her things, and then what if I'm wrong? Or what if I'm right and she does . . . have a crush on me . . . or something . . . and then if I don't feel that way I break her heart and our friendship is over?" All of Jane's worries came spilling out.

"How do you feel about her, Jane?" Angela's voice was uncharacteristically steady and patient.

Jane looked her mother in the eye again, and when she found softness and sympathy there she almost let the tears that were welling up inside of her spill out.

"I love Maura, mom. I really do. If I think about not having her in my life, it hurts, right here, you know?" She clutched at her t-shirt, holding her hand right above her heart. "It makes me sick to think about losing her. But what if that's not enough? I think she's beautiful, and when she comes into the office or if I see that she's calling me my heart flutters a little. She calls me Janey, and it's just so—adorable. I love that. I love _her_. But she's, you know, a _girl_. What if I just love Maura—Maura the person, Maura my friend—but I'm not really attracted to Maura the woman? Or what if what I feel isn't real, I just think I'm attracted to her because I don't want to lose her?"

Jane felt like she was making no sense at all, but she was surprised to hear her mother chuckling softly. "Oh, Jane, no one ever knows if the attraction will last! But you know what? I think you are attracted to her, and that the attraction is real. Otherwise you wouldn't have been driven to the extreme of having this discussion with your mother!"

Jane looked at Angela with amazement, and when her mother folded her into her arms the tears did begin to fall in earnest, but she was laughing too. They embraced for several long moments before Jane broke the silence.

"So, you know how you're always begging me to quit my job and settle down with a man and have babies? How would you and daddy feel if I kept my job and settled down with Maura instead?" Jane tried to sound nonchalant about the question, but she really did want to know how her mother would react.

"Jane." Angela stopped and took a deep breath. "Your father and I love you and we think Maura is great. The idea of you two as a couple will take some getting used to, I'm not going to lie. I'm still going to beg you—and Frankie, don't worry!—for grandchildren. But if you decide that Maura will make you happy, we'll be fine. Just fine." She stroked her daughter's hair and smiled.

"Thanks, ma, that means a lot. But how am I going to decide? What am I going to do?"

"You'll have to figure that out for yourself, honey. But if I were you, I'd try to find out about this Kate. Find out if they were, you know, together, and find out what happened between them. It might help you to understand what's going on with Maura."

"How am I supposed to find out about her? I really can't ask Maura, I just can't."

"You're a detective, Jane! Figure it out!"


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I don't own Rizzoli & Isles_.

Chapter 6

"Maura, I'm not feeling very well at the moment—would you mind if I skipped out on dinner?" Jane eased herself onto the couch and put her hands over her abdomen, hoping that Maura would think she had cramps.

Dr. Isles did not disappoint. She took one look at her friend, walked out of the living room, and came back in a half a minute with a handful of crackers, three ibuprofen, and a glass of water.

"Here, you'll feel better when these kick in."

Jane groaned, but took the pills. "This is so embarrassing, Maura, I'm sorry."

"What's to be sorry for? Everyone gets cramps sometimes. Do you want me to pick up some take-out and bring it back here? I'm kind of tired tonight anyway." Maura sat on the edge of the couch and rubbed her friend's arm. Jane shivered at the touch, because now every time Maura touched her, or even came near her, it felt like some sort of electrical current had suddenly been turned on, but also because she felt bad for deceiving her friend. She hoped Maura couldn't see through this little charade—since she had spent most of her life in a man's world, she had never used cramps as an excuse for anything.

"Thanks, Maura, that would be great. I don't feel like eating anything right now, but I'm sure I will in an hour or so."

As soon as Jane heard the garage door close, she threw off the blanket Maura had tucked around her and headed down the hall to the office. One wall of the room was lined with bookshelves, and on one of those shelves was the book Jane was looking for—Maura's college yearbook. By the time she heard the garage door open a half hour later, she was back on the couch snuggled under the blanket with the information she needed.

The name of the red-haired, blue-eyed girl that Maura had once been in love with.

Two days later, Jane pulled up in front of a large brick home, carefully avoiding a scooter that had been left out in the driveway. Using the resources of the Boston Police Department, she had figured out that Kate was married to a doctor named Rice and had two children, and they had purchased this home in an upscale Boston suburb five years previously. Jane knocked on the door and felt a stab of anxiety when the door opened and she immediately recognized the woman from Maura's photos.

"Kate Rice?"

"Yes?"

"My name is Detective Rizzoli from the Boston Police Department, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about a woman who I believe was a friend of yours in college? Dr. Maura Isles?"

"Maura? I haven't seen her in years. Has she done something wrong?"

"No, she hasn't done anything wrong. I would just like to know more about the nature of your relationship."

Kate looked a bit taken aback by the question. "The nature of our relationship? What do you mean by that?"

"Were you in a relationship with Maura Isles?" Jane put her hands on her hips, making sure that the badge on her belt was plainly visible. She knew this was line of questioning was inappropriate, but she didn't see any way around it.

"A relationship?" Kate closed the front door and stepped out onto the porch, and seemed very upset. "Do I look like some sort of dyke to you? Why are you asking me this, my children are inside!"

Jane froze. This is the woman that Maura had been in love with? Jane did not like the word 'dyke;' too many suspects had flung it at her during arrests and interrogations. But Kate's reaction confirmed to her that she and Maura had indeed been more than friends. She decided to push forward.

"Mrs. Rice, I'm sorry, but clearly you did have a relationship with Dr. Isles, and I need to know _exactly _what happened between you." Jane gave the woman her best no-shit cop look.

Kate still looked wary, but she did answer Jane's question. "Look. Maura was . . . strange." Kate looked around, as though she were worried someone might overhear the conversation. "We were both pre-med in college so we had a lot of classes together, and we hung out quite a bit. I was on scholarship and didn't have a lot of money, but she did, so I put up with her and she paid for drinks and concerts and stuff. I even let her drag me to the symphony a few times. She was really smart; I never would have made it through organic chemistry without her. But when she . . . came onto me, I kind of freaked out. I guess I should have tried to, you know, let her down gently, or something? It just scared me to be kissed by a girl. I never talked to her again after that, and that's all that happened. I haven't seen her or heard from her in over ten years." Kate suddenly seemed embarrassed and quickly opened the door and stepped back inside, muttering, "Good luck with your investigation," as she closed the door.

Jane didn't bother trying to stop her, just turned on her heel and headed back to the station. She had all of the information she needed, and she knew exactly what to do next.

* * *

Maura's birthday was on a Saturday, and Jane told her in no uncertain terms that she was to leave the whole day open for birthday surprises.

Maura was thrilled and scared, all at the same time. She loved that Jane was making a fuss over her, but fear and doubt remained with her in the back of her mind. She believed she would have a fantastic birthday with Jane, but she worried it would be the last. The timing had been wrong with Grant and Dean, but one day, the timing would be right and Jane would be gone.

But when she opened her front door on Saturday morning and found Jane on her doorstep holding champagne and strawberries her fears subsided and she decided to just enjoy the day. Jane grinned at her and shouted, "Birthday surprise number one!"

_Oh, fuck it all_, thought Maura. _I love this woman_. And she hugged her and laughed.

Birthday surprise number two was so totally unexpected that Maura was nearly speechless. After breakfast, Jane announced that Angela was going to take the two of them on a shopping trip to get ready for birthday surprise number three. Since Maura loved to watch Jane and her mother interact, and she loved to see Jane get dressed up, it was a perfect surprise. The three women laughed and shopped their way through several stores and a stop for lunch before finally returning to Maura's apartment with their purchases. Angela kissed her daughter, hugged Maura and wished her a happy birthday, and hastened out the door.

"Did your mother just wink at you, Jane?"

"Birthday girls don't get to ask questions!" Jane teased, and then pulled out an envelope.

"Birthday surprise number three! Tickets to the symphony!"

Maura squealed with delight. She had been trying to get Jane to go to the symphony with her for months, but Jane had never seemed too enthusiastic.

"I thought you hated the symphony?"

"No, I don't hate the symphony, I just wanted to save it for your birthday."

"Really?"

"Really. I even googled the conductor and the composer and everything—" Maura cut her off by pulling her into a hug. "Thank you, Jane, this is wonderful." She held Jane so close she could feel the other woman's heart beating.

"Don't get all mushy on me now, Dr. Isles!" Jane pulled out of the hug. "Now, here's the plan. I'm going to go home and get ready, and then I'll come and pick you up for dinner at six, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

Jane had indeed investigated all of the details of this particular symphony performance. In fact, she knew that it was scheduled to end at 9:45. So at 9:35, in the middle of the orchestra's final piece, she took another envelope out of her purse, put it on Maura's lap, and whispered, "Birthday surprise number four" into her ear.

Maura looked at her quizzically. "Right now?" she mouthed, and Jane nodded enthusiastically. Maura withdrew the two sheets of stationery she found in the envelope, and began to read, slowly in the dim light.

_Dear Maura,_

_I know about Kate._

Maura looked up at Jane with shock in her eyes. Jane reached over and took Maura's hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly. She rested her head on Maura's shoulder. "Keep reading," she whispered.

_I know that she was your best friend in college, and that she broke your heart. I know that you kissed her and she rejected you, so you've been afraid of your feelings for me. Afraid that I would do the same thing that she did._

_But I won't, Maura. I promise I would never hurt you like that. You are the most amazing person I have ever known. She didn't get that about you, but I do._

_I'm in love with you, Maura. I don't know when it happened, and I don't know why it happened, but it did. You make me happy. So, so happy. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it._

_The symphony will be over in five minutes. We are going to drive back to my apartment, and then you are going to kiss me. If you want to. And I will kiss you back. Many times. I promise._

_Happy Birthday, baby. _

_Love,_

_Janey_

Maura felt like she couldn't breathe. She looked at Jane, and their eyes locked. They stared at each other for what seemed like an hour. Then Jane whispered, "Look at the next page," and smiled playfully.

The second page was labeled, "New Rules."

1. Touch Jane as much as you want, whenever you want.

2. Daydream about Jane as much as you want, whenever you want.

3. Always tell Jane exactly how you feel.

4. Stop dating men. Forever.

"How did you—" Maura searched Jane's face for answers, and then Jane's expression changed, just slightly, and Maura realized all at once that Jane had opened her heart so much that she felt exposed, and needed Maura's approval. So, finally, she whispered, "It doesn't matter. I love you too, Janey. I love you too."

The car ride home was quiet. This time it was Maura's turn to take Jane's hand in hers, reveling in the amazing sensation of their fingers entwined together. Then she slid her other hand up and down Jane's arm, feeling the softness of her skin, leaving behind a trail of gooseflesh.

Jane just tried not to crash the car.

Back in the familiar territory of her apartment, Jane suddenly felt shy.

But Maura didn't. As soon as the door was closed she reached up and put her arms around Jane's neck, burying her hands in soft brown curls.

"Are you sure you are going to keep your promise, Jane Rizzoli?" Maura's voice was husky, and she shivered when Jane's hands moved to her waist and pulled her closer.

"Yes, Maura, yes." She bent forward and pressed her forehead against Maura's, and finally their lips met.

Jane kept her promise, and kissed her back so hard she felt dizzy. It was like she had been deprived of oxygen and now needed Jane's lips, Jane's tongue, and Jane's teeth just to live.

Then, she needed even more than that.

"Touch me, Jane. Please."

Jane didn't need to be asked twice. She pulled down the straps of Maura's dress, cupped her lace-clad breasts in her hands, and buried her face between them, breathing deeply and moaning. She covered Maura's neck and the tops of her breasts with kisses and licks. Then she held her lover close, her breath catching as she felt Maura's fingers traveling up the sides of her body, caressing her stomach and moving closer and closer . . .

"Wait, I almost forgot!" Jane pulled away suddenly, and Maura blinked, struggling to focus through a haze of arousal more intense than she had ever felt in her life.

"What—" Jane took her hand and practically ran into the bedroom, dragging Maura behind her. She led her to the edge of the bed, made her sit down, and said, "Wait there, I'll be right back." Then she disappeared into the bathroom.

She came out a minute later, fully transformed into sexy Jane. Sexy Jane in black lace lingerie.

"Birthday surprise number five," she said, holding up five fingers.

Then she realized that Maura wasn't on the edge of the bed, where she had left her. She was in the bed, covered with a sheet. Her new dress was on the floor, and so were her bra and panties.

Maura looked at Jane, beautiful, happy, sexy, Jane, and threw the sheet off of her naked body.

"Birthday surprise number six."

**The end.**


End file.
